


Six

by Venstar



Series: Meaningless Scars [6]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: SPECTRE Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:56:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: Q looked out the window of the plane, the ground dropping swiftly away.  Old fears die hard.





	Six

**Author's Note:**

> i probably have a third part of this spectre fix-it. i had more words than i thought to write about it. LOL. :D

Q was exhausted, after the incredible chase and rescue that had happened on the mountain by Hoffler Klinik. He’d been snagged up by Bond and rushed to the nearest airport, where Bond had procured two tickets to Tangier. He hadn’t had a moment to truly come to terms with what was happening.

“All I was supposed to do, was to hopefully retrieve you quietly and with none the wiser before M got back. This was not in the plan.” Q looked out the window of the plane, the ground dropping swiftly away. Old fears die hard.

“Things don’t always go to plan, when you have a plan,” Bond had said in response.

Q snorted. “Incredible words of wisdom, from the poet laureate of MI6. Whatever. Wake me when we get where we’re going.” And with that, Q popped a couple of pills in his mouth and fell asleep for the rest of the trip. 

It was only after touching down, he found himself pulled, pushed and prodded by 007 to get off the plane. He’s pretty sure he whined about it and had a streak of drool running down his face. He wiped sloppily at his face, hoping that their adventure would end soon. “This isn’t London.” Q grumbled as he stood outside in the hot sun baking down on him and his thick winter gear. 

“No, it’s not. Get in the car, Q.” Bond stuffed Q into a waiting cab and gave an address. 

Q was soon pulled back out of the car, half asleep and into a store. He wishes that he had been fully awake for what he was sure was an undressing of the two of them before he was covered again in light weight clothing. 

Bond slapped a hat over his head. “There, now you look like a tourist.”

Q was hustled back out of the shop, their heavy winter things left on the floor of the changing room. He was beginning to wake now and looked around at his exotic location. He let out a whistle. They rode in silence to the Hotel L’american, Bond charmed the receptionist and they were given the key to the room number Dr. Swann had given them when they left her. Q immediately flopped down on the bed. “I don’t care if it’s up to us to save the world and we have five minutes in which to do it. I’m starving.” 

“Then order something. I’ll look around.” Bond left Q to his own devices as he wandered about the room, poking and prodding at the furnishings, scarred with age and markings where people had carved their names in unobtrusive places. Bond paid close attention to these, in case X literally marked the spot.

“He probably left a roll of microfilm hidden in a knot,” Q said. “It’d be just like something old spies would do, which means you should find it in two minutes.”

Bond snorted at the comment and continued to explore. 

“Right then,” Q said. “Room service.” He picked up the phone. “You’re paying for it. Actually, MI6 is paying for it. Shit, they’ll track our cards.” He stared absentmindedly at the wall, thinking about the plane, the hotel, the cab, everything that Bond had paid for so far. “How has no one ever found you if this is your mode of operation?”

Bond glanced up at him and smiled. “Tanner has cut access to my cards before. He hasn’t yet, which means we don’t have much time, if they’re trying to track us, so use whatever it is you have and-”

“Just, give me a moment.” Q pulled out his laptop. “I wasn’t awake for most of this, or I would have taken care of everything. Just I’ll get into our system and void the alerts and then I’ll change the numbers to fake cards and place our card numbers at different locations. Put them on a wild goose chase. Nothing will trace to us.”

Bond looked over his shoulder as Q worked his magic. “Thank you.”

Surprised, Q looked up, his eyes large and blinking behind his glasses. “Whatever for? It’s my job.” That startled a half-laugh out of Bond. 

“Thank you, for everything. I know you don’t have to be here.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure I’ll have anywhere to be if C has his way.”


End file.
